


Room 714

by sunflower_beatles



Category: Led Zeppelin, Robert Plant - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Kinky, Led Zeppelin - Freeform, rick james - Freeform, room 714, super freak - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 03:58:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18422349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower_beatles/pseuds/sunflower_beatles
Summary: Robert Plant has had many groupies of different backgrounds, interests, and styles, but never anyone like her.NSFW— descriptions of kinky stuff, bondage, alcohol. It’s not incredibly graphic but... you’ve been warned.





	Room 714

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! It’s been awhile. I’ve been doing more art than writing recently and I’ve also been super busy with school and just life in general so.... forgive me! But here! Take this! It’s basically the lyrics to ‘Super Freak’ by Rick James but... with a Zeppelin twist.
> 
> Additionally, it’s also kind of NSFW— descriptions of kinky stuff, bondage, alcohol. It’s not incredibly graphic but... you’ve been warned.

With a shake of his golden hair the girl was gone, but not after her sensual smirk had bound itself into Robert’s memory. 

~I must know who she is~, he thought as he crawled into the limo that would take him to that night’s hotel room. He couldn’t wait to shower and drop into bed. Tonight’s show had been particularly exhausting, for some reason, but he was sure it’d all be fixed with a good night’s rest.

Water dribbled down his skin, his sweat carried off in the current, yet every time he dipped his head under the showerhead, he saw her fiery scarlet lipstick and glistening bronze eyes. There are only some things water can wash away.

-

The next night he and the other boys played the same sold-out venue again, and again, at the end of the night, there she was. She was wearing a dark trench coat and he could see the rich skin of her chest. He tried to reach out to her, called “Hey!”, but she vanished into the mist with a smile. The others glanced at him with a drawn expression but he ignored them for the swiftly-moving view of New York’s three AM skyline.

-

Three days off. The fifteen total seconds he’d been in her presence consumed him as he began asking around for anyone who may know her name.

-

A week goes by. No luck.

-

Three weeks. She’d now become a vaguely addictive memory.

-

A month. She was just starting to fade from his mind when she passed right in front of him as he exited stage-right. He grabbed her arm, pulled her to him, examining her face, but to his surprise she took control and had him by the buckle of his belt. Her face was inches away from his. He smelled cigarettes and pot on her as she murmured:

“Room 714. I’ll be waiting.”

And then she strode away, leaving him to watch her long stocking-clad legs in the dim light.

-

He had to attend a fan meet-up, which he hated doing. All those meaningless people throwing themselves at him. He just signed their chests and records and after an hour he escaped.

The elevator creaked as he stood, bouncing on his heels, waiting for the seventh floor to arrive. He felt disgusting, sweaty and worn-out from the show, yet strangely energized, adrenaline and excitement coursing through his body. A loud ding marked his arrival at his destination, and he stepped out and looked both ways down the hall before turning left. He watched the numbers on the doors grow smaller as he walked. 722, 720, 718, 716. 

He stopped in front of the door labeled “714”. Nerves bubbled up inside him. Who knows what lay behind this door. He raised his fist and knocked thrice.

A “Come in” was heard from the room, and he pushed the door open. Upon entering, he was greeted with the distinct scent of cigarettes and incense. Candles burned through the haze in the corners of the room, giving off a dim golden light. On one of the nightstands lay bottles and glasses of red wine, some with lipstick marks on the edges. Along with that was a bottle of hot massage oil, a bowl of quickly-melting ice cubes, and a few cans of whipped cream. The other nightstand contained far more vulgar items. An ashtray sat perched next to a pair of handcuffs, a neatly placed blindfold, a coil of thick, tough rope, and more wine. However, despite the wide selection of items, the main attraction lay in between the nightstands, on the large bed that took up much of the floor space. The girl, clad in a black corset with heels, panties, and fishnet stockings, smoked a cigarette and sipped wine from the bottle. 

As his eyes met hers, she gave a provocative glance, and he found it difficult to resist her given the environment. She slid off the bed and strode over to him and, suddenly harsh, shoved him against the wall, one finger pressed into his sternum.

“Do you know what you’re here for?” she said, leaning in close. He shook his head, hair catching the dusky light of the candles, smirk on his lips.

“I’ll tell you what you’re here for. Better yet, I’ll show you.” She grasped his belt and shoved him onto the bed behind her. “Strip.”

Hesitating for a moment, he removed his thin shirt and tight-fitting jeans. She snatched the clothing from him and threw it in the bathroom. “Do what I say and you get your clothes back.”

Naked, intimidated, and aroused, he nodded. She strutted over to the nightstand and plucked a couple of ice cubes from the bowl. Bending over him, she murmured, “My intention tonight is to make you beg for more.” She smirked as he shivered at the frigid ice cubes on his chest. “I’ll bet you’ve never been with anyone quite like me before.” The ice cube was pushed into his mouth and as it melted in his heat she picked up the length of rope from the other nightstand.

“Flip over,” she commanded, and he did so, face-down on the bed. He felt as she harshly knotted his limbs together at the wrists and ankles as if he were a freshly killed deer. A piece of cloth was lowered gently over his eyes and tied behind his head. She suddenly gripped a fistful of his yellow hair and uttered, “You’re my all-time favorite, golden little Planty.”


End file.
